Chapter 3

It was getting on for seven in the evening before finally Maxine's name was called out by a weary-looking doctor from the corridor at the back of the waiting area. Whether or not that was an especially long time, Steph didn't know; she had no idea what was usual, let alone how long it had been since she had arrived at the hospital along with Maxine… two and a half hours? Three hours? She couldn't be sure, not given that keeping track of time had been the least of her concerns upon being separated, forced to release Maxine's hand from her grip and sent off alone into the waiting area in a state of morbid uncertainty.

She had become so accustomed to the deafening silence of unknowing and anxiety that it took her a few moments longer than normal to even register Maxine's name being called across the room. Yet the moment it clicked, suddenly Steph was bolt upright, pulled from her daydream, heart in her mouth as a fresh wave of what could only be described as nausea combined with a sudden sense of light-heartedness curiously combined into one.

This was it; she was more than aware of that. These next few minutes could alter everything she knew beyond all recognition, and she was completely powerless.

"You're family of Maxine Barlow?" the doctor asked Steph as she approached, her voice level, steady. Her manner was such a stark contrast from the state in which she found herself now, on edge, tense, considerably more terrified than she had ever felt before in all her life, that it was almost laughable, Steph pondered. In some ways, she almost envied her. This was her job, her profession; she was employed to remain emotionally detached, to distinguish with perfect clarity between the patient and the person before her. Given the frenzy of tangled, overwhelming emotions she was currently fighting, Steph found herself wishing in some ways that she could possess the ability to emotionally detach herself, too. The mere anticipation of the emotional torment which might be brought upon her within the next few minutes was almost unbearable, and she knew that the actual experience would undoubtedly be a thousand times worse.

Yet with the ability to emotionally detach herself from this particular situation would come a lack of compassion and consideration, as Steph knew deep down. The pain of potentially losing Maxine forever, that and the very real possibility that she might already be gone… that pain was what made her human, compassionate, the best technique available to a person to make their true feelings known and demonstrate their own caring nature.

Though somehow, right now that wasn't much in the way of a comfort.

"Yes, that's right," Steph replied anxiously, clenching her hands around each other tightly in a desperate attempt to prevent them from shaking- one which failed rather miserably. "What's happened? Is she alright, is she stable? She's not… she's…?"

"She's stable for the moment, yes," the doctor confirmed. "My colleagues and I conducted a diagnostic laparotomy when she was brought in, what we found was that several injuries were sustained…"

"Hang on, hang on, a diagnostic what?" The medical terminology was washing over Steph completely, only confusing matters, causing her to feel ignorant, pathetic, horribly out of control. She was Maxine's… guardian, after all, she was Maxine's guardian; surely it was her responsibility to understand the situation her foster daughter was currently in, to be as knowledgeable as possible and therefore as well prepared as she could be to do what was best, make the right decisions. And yet already she was failing rather spectacularly. She had failed Maxine with her own ignorance, unable to best ascertain how to help her due to a complete lack of understanding as far as the terminology went. She was a failure, a complete and utter failure.

Maxine deserved better, far better. But aside from a psychopathic, aggressive boyfriend, Steph was all she had.

"A diagnostic laparotomy, we use it to ascertain the extent of a patient's injuries in cases like this," the doctor explained. "In Maxine's case, several injuries were sustained…"

"Such as?" She was being incredibly impatient and downright rude and she knew it, but the anticipation was simply too much to bear.

"There's considerable damage to her small intestines at the bullet entry wound, severe damage to the abdominal wall, internal bleeding to the stomach, though thankfully the bullet caught her rib rather than penetrating her liver…"

It was all too much, this horrifically long list of injuries, of could haves and would haves and still the agonising uncertainty of the prognosis. In some ways, Steph wasn't particularly concerned as to the extent of Maxine's injuries; she could cope with that, would help Maxine through it as best she could. All she needed to know was that she was going to be alright, that despite her initial fears, Earl Kelly had not succeeded in bringing about the end of life as she had known it for the past two years.

"But she's alright?" Steph pleaded, interrupting the doctor mid-flow once again, dimly conscious of the fact that she was only confirming any judgement which might have already been made of her by this doctor as pushy and impatient, though far too concerned to particularly care. Surely panicked relatives far worse than her must have graced the doors of A and E over the years? Steph hoped so. She had already been labelled as interfering by Maxine today; in light of the afternoon's events, she was feeling guilty enough as it was, already doubting herself, worrying that perhaps she was too interfering as a guardian, too controlling. The last thing she needed was an additional, professional diagnosis of pushy, wannabe parent.

"She's stable for now," the doctor confirmed. "But the next 24 hours are going to be crucial. We're still waiting for her to come round- hopefully she'll start showing some signs of consciousness in the next couple of hours. She's in intensive care for the moment, she needs close monitoring for now given she's just had major surgery…"

"Major surgery?" Steph repeated, more than a little horrified. She was far from knowledgeable as far as medical matters went only too conscious of it given her present surroundings; she had known of course that a close-range bullet wound to the abdomen was bad news if not treated quickly, but major surgery… major…

"Maxine's suffered a close-range gunshot wound, Miss Haydock, I'm afraid it is a very serious injury," the doctor explained, her tone suddenly gaining a little in the way of compassion, as though sensing that what little composure Steph was currently managing to maintain was unlikely to survive very much longer at all without it. "We're doing all we can for her. As I said, we've transferred Maxine to intensive care for now; she'll stay there until she comes round and then we'll reassess the situation if she begins to show signs of improvement…"

"And… and if she doesn't?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," the doctor replied, her brisk manner returned once more. "As you're Maxine's guardian you can sit with her on the intensive care ward, I'm afraid no other visitors will be permitted though…"

"But I can see her? I can see her now?" Steph was sure that Janeece would have something to say regarding the family only with the exception of guardians of under eighteens rule when she could put off her visit no longer, but for now she did her best to push that particular concern to the back of her mind. She would deal with that when she had to; for now, all her efforts had to be focused upon Maxine. Even if at this stage there was very little that she could do to help, she would never be able to live with herself if she failed to invest every last scrap of energy she had within her in attempting to pull her foster daughter back from the brink of unconsciousness.

"Of course, I'll take you through. Now you need to be prepared, it might be a little unsettling at first, even upsetting, seeing Max…"

"I know, I know all that," Steph said hurriedly, fast losing her patience. "It's fine, I can find it, Intensive Care, you said?"

"No, I'll walk you over there," the doctor said firmly, turning on her heel and proceeding down the corridor, motioning to Steph to follow. "Is there anyone I can call to be with you…?"

"No, no it's fine," Steph insisted. "Honestly. I'd rather it was just the two of us, Max and I, that's how it normally is…"

"Miss Haydock," the doctor sighed, continuing to lead Steph through the hospital. "You have to understand, there's a good chance Maxine might remain unconscious for…"

"I know, I know," Steph repeated insistently, struggling to maintain her composure. "I know that. I… I just… I just want to sit with her," she managed at last, voice stammering as she fought to hold back her tears. "I just want her to know I'm there, you know? I just need her to know I'm here…. That I…" She couldn't bring herself to say it. "That I'm here."

She had expected the walk along the clinical, uninviting hospital corridors to last a lifetime, cliché as it was. Yet as it turned out, the opposite entirely was true; that trek to the intensive care unit was over far too quickly. It was only as she stood outside the door, unable to muster the courage to push it open and confront the horrific nightmare in which she was trapped, that Steph realised she had been relying upon that cliché being at least partly routed in fact. Still it hadn't quite hit her, the events of the afternoon; those hours sat in the waiting room in tormented anticipation had felt rather surreal, limbo-like, a curious state somewhere between dream and reality in which differentiating between the truth and the figments of her imagination was a practically impossible task.

The end result was the state of fierce denial in which Steph found herself now, knowing full well what she was likely to find on the other side of the intimidating double doors marked 'intensive care' but somehow unable to accept it completely. Maxine; it was Maxine who would be lying still, pale, lifeless in one of the hospital beds, Maxine attached to a network of wires and tubes, Maxine whose fragile pulse fuelled the harsh rhythmic bleeping of a heart rate monitor.

It was wrong, all wrong. And the moment she stepped onto the ward, Steph would be able to deny it was happening no longer.

She tiptoed across the ward as though in a dream world; murky, hazed, eyes raw from all the tears of earlier and vision consequently blurred. She was afraid, so horribly afraid, all the time fighting a terrible urge to turn on her heel and run, get herself as far away from this nightmare as she possibly could.

Perhaps, in hindsight, it was something of a blessing that she spotted Maxine's motionless form so quickly.

Whether or not Steph would have had the courage to proceed with this journey into uncertainty and emotional torment much longer had she not was indeed debatable.

But as soon as her eyes fell upon Maxine, Steph knew at once that there was no bottling out, no turning back, no leaving this room for the foreseeable future.

She was needed. Even if Maxine couldn't tell her so in words, if she wouldn't have admitted to it regardless of being in possession of the power of speech, Steph knew still that she was needed.

And that was enough.

So sorry it's been a while, I've been completely snowed under with coursework and training at the weekends, plus this was a difficult chapter to write and I wanted to spend the time on it to get it right. Hope it was OK, sorry again for the wait- I promise to do better next time if you review!

Thank you so, so much to WritingWhatsOnMyMind for your review, this chapter's for you :) Anyone else? Come on, you know you want to, I'm only carrying on with this if more of you are interested and want me to post more chapters- you have to let me know! A few words will do, and I accept anonymous reviews too :) Please?

Em xx